


The Conference

by AnnetheCatDetective



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Astral Projection, Carlos is a Good Boyfriend, Cecil encounters homophobia, Cecil is Human, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, No Tentacles, Outside Night Vale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-27 05:11:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cecil elected to accompany Carlos, he didn't expect the world outside Night Vale to be quite so different. When Carlos asked Cecil if he wanted to go spend a couple days and nights in a hotel, he didn't know what to expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> Journal segments are Carlos' POV, non-journal segments are Cecil's POV.

CONFERENCE TRIP- DAY 1-

Not even half hour outside Night Vale. Cecil a wreck.

I did not intend for this trip to be an experiment. I just wanted to bring him with me. Couple nights in a hotel room, why not ask the boyfriend to come along? I did NOT intend for Cecil to be an experiment. Still, it's an education in what happens when you take a person who has essentially been raised in a blasted hellscape under a totalitarian regime OUT. Cecil LIKES Night Vale.

'Blasted hellscape' is harsh, but I don't know how I'd stand Night Vale if I wasn't a scientist. A man with a mission, if you will. And Cecil improves the experience.

I wanted him to come with me to the conference. He could share my hotel room, help me prep to present, I could take him out to dinner... He was really happy to come, except once we were outside Night Vale city limits, he sort of fell apart.

I got him into a booth in a roadside diner and got him a coffee, but he's still uneasy. I guess because everything in the diner is visible? I'm not sure exactly, he seems suspicious of some fairly ordinary things. 

It gives me the chance to take notes, which I do feel guilty about, but note taking is what I KNOW. I really do not mean to treat him like a specimen but I can't fix things if I don't observe them carefully and notes is part of that. 

Cecil is pale and shaky. His eyes are wider and greyer than usual, and he's looking around rapidly. He drinks the coffee, and it's no miracle, but he's calmer than he was in the car, though I get the feeling he wants to ask me about everything. I wish I knew what the stimulus was for his unease, it can't literally have been crossing the city limits, can it have been? Maybe there was something out the window, or maybe it was picking up an unfamiliar radio station all of a sudden. I'll ask if it doesn't stop bothering him, but if he can just let it go that might be better.

I hold his hand over the table with my other hand while I write. We both notice the waitress' disapproving glare. Cecil asks if she is with the local Sheriff's Secret Police, or worse, from Desert Bluffs, and if he should alter his behavior to fall in line with local strictures. His example is the potential illegality of stirring his coffee counter-clockwise, or using more than his allotted number of sugar packets without realizing it, or if he is unaware of some customary pre-coffee chant or ritual.

I admit to him she is probably just homophobic. His expression is blank. I realize I have never encountered anything of the kind in Night Vale, that my relationship with Cecil has only ever been treated positively. We're kind of the town's 'celebrity couple', and no one's ever made an issue of our being two men. Or of the race thing. Is it possible Cecil has never encountered homophobia? Has he never encountered racism between fellow human beings, beyond the Apache Tracker nonsense?

Rethinking my classification of Night Vale as 'hellscape'. At least when Night Vale tries to kill me, it's got nothing to do with my sexual leanings.

I promise Cecil I'll explain as much as I can later, and tell him to ignore her-- she's not part of any government agency, and he can have all the sugar he wants. 

\---/-/---

"All the sugar I want?" I grin, trying to relax. Carlos' cheeks, already a deep, rich tan, darken further in a blush. Adorable. 

"Cool it down, there, Casanova." Carlos murmurs. Oh, it's like his voice has been aged in oak barrels and reduced on a low simmer with butter and gold. 

The waitress does not seem to realize how perfect Carlos is. It's like she doesn't like him at all. Is she jealous because her hair is not as nice? She seems to go to great pains not to let their hands touch when he pays for our coffee. 

"Have you never really left Night Vale?" Carlos asks, as we return to his car. "I thought you'd been to Europe. I mean... granted, they were countries I've never heard of, but still... you have to have seen something of how the world works."

"It's kind of complicated..." I squirm. "I've... I wanted to come off as worldly and well-traveled, and it's true that I've seen all those things I talked about, I really have! But..."

Carlos nods and touches my forehead. "Right. You... You'll have to let me run some tests on that ability sometime. Back at the lab, I mean."

"I'd love to." I beam, and the touch is just perfect, like he's touching my very soul, and we're both made of stars... and I don't think I am the best candidate for whatever tests he has in mind-- I am, after all, the kind of inexpert astral projector who woke up in the hospital because he couldn't pull himself back into his body for, like, a week. A week of time as my body experienced it, at least, but the part of me that was in Europe seemed to live through more. Well, sometimes it seems that way. It is not an easy thing to think back to, and it is not an easy thing to think about anything, with Carlos' thumb stroking across my forehead. "Oh, Carlos..."

"Glad to see you feeling better."

Inside the car, he leans over, and I feel like I could burst at the anticipation, at his touch, at the kiss soft against my cheek. I am at a loss for words. 

Carlos' smile fades, his expression hesitant, thoughtful... worried?

"Cecil, has anyone ever been... upset, about your preferences?"

"Which ones?"

"For men." He clarifies.

"Oh, Carlos, really." I blush. "It's not as if I've left heartbroken women in my wake."

"It's... it's not like that, outside of Night Vale. Sometimes people care. And it... It complicates things, that we're not..."

"Not?" I press. Not married? Oh, don't get your hopes up, Cecil, you'll be the one to broach that topic, you know what he's like. Besides, he's not going to propose now! It's hardly the time, and it's a little soon, but maybe-- Not that I think he's going to ask, of course, but he might mean it matters, us sharing a hotel room...

"Cecil, was the Apache Tracker the worst racist in Night Vale?"

I don't see the connection, but my answer is still instant and emphatic. "Yes. That guy was the worst-- uh, still a hero and all, but aside from a few people with antiquated notions about sentient non-humans or multiple heads... I mean, look, I know small towns have a reputation for ignorance, but I really can't think of anyone else like that."

"Okay. Well. Outside of Night Vale, that's-- I won't say it isn't harmful, but in my experience, it's not on the same level as... like, getting pulled over for driving while brown, or-- or having realtors quote you a lower price if you call on the phone and say your name is Charles Smith because they want to keep a certain 'element' out, or getting spat on, or--"

The words tumble out of him, and the distress bleeds into the very air around us, and I kiss him, because I can't think of anything else to do, in that parked car full of painful memories of a world I'd never considered. 

It's not to shut him up. I don't want him to think it's to shut him up. I kiss his hand, and then his cheek, but I let his lips stop on their own.

"I'm sorry, Cecil... that's not... that has nothing to do with you."

"Who spat on you?" I ask. My voice trembles. 

"I don't know, assholes. Not history majors, clearly, because California was annexed from Mexico, so really, my family's been here longer than any of them, but you can't say that to guys who are drunk. Only PhD in the room, mistaken for a gardener."

"Maybe they were jealous of your hair?" I offer, because actual hate is too much to think on, hate for Carlos, who is wonderful, for no real reason at all...

Carlos laughs, loud and long and helpless. 

"No." He gasps, cupping my cheek. "You've never seen my hair when it's humid. No one would be jealous."

"Carlos?"

"Yes, Cecil?" His thumb strokes the ridge of my cheek with such a gentleness. His smile lights a thousand tiny fires somewhere deep and tender within my heart, my giant, bottomless heart that swells with each thought of him and beats out his name, gentle, gentle.

"You are a very good scientist." I tell him, my hand covering his. 

"That... is exactly what I needed to hear right now." Carlos says, and he rests his forehead to mine. It sets off a pulse, somewhere in the core of that difficult-to-control part of me that sees things sometimes and goes places, that lives in that spot and loves his touch the same as the rest of me.

"Neat." I say.

\---/-/---

DAY 1- NIGHT

We stopped into a Barnes & Noble before the hotel. Cecil is mildly distrusting of life outside Night Vale still... he doesn't know which books are "approved", whatever that means. He was excited to look at the science section with me at first, until we saw a book about the moon, and I don't know...

I bought him a book about Tesla-- pretty sure that guy is Night Vale-approved-- and one of horror stories, with a frightening face, mottled with green and frozen in a scream on the cover. I got myself a few things that might not be Night Vale-approved, maybe. It's hard to keep track. 

He regards everything and everyone with a frightened suspicion. He keeps it under wraps, but I can see it-- even if no one who didn't know him would know, this isn't the friendly, effervescent Cecil I'm used to. I shouldn't have mentioned getting spat on. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned any of that stuff. I wanted him to be ready for it, especially after the diner, but I went too far.

At the hotel, he relaxes, chuckling over the horror stories. I was right about that, at least. The cosmic horror reminds him of home.

Look, if anyone finds this, like after I die or something, or... just, if anyone finds this, I need to say, Cecil is NOT a monster. He's a wonderful, caring person, and his world is very strange. If he laughs at a horror story, it's not because dismemberment or misfortune amuses him. He displays the occasional cluck of empathy for the hapless victims. He laughs because he recognizes the scenarios, the way you laugh at a sitcom even when bad things are happening to the characters. He relates.

\---/-/---

"What are you writing about?" I ask, as Carlos takes copious notes. "Is this for your presentation?"

"No." He smiles at me, and his pencil stops moving. "Actually... I just got finished writing about you."

"Me?" I lean forward, laying my book aside. 

"Just a little observation. About how sweet you are, and... that I was watching you read." He shrugs. "And thinking about how cute you are, in fact."

"Well, there's room on this bed for two." I pat the other side, and he closes his notebook and joins me. "Thanks for the presents, by the way."

"You thanked me at the bookstore." His arm slides around me, his lips brush my cheek. 

"Oh, but I didn't get to really thank you..." I purr. "The kind of thanking you that really requires some privacy and maybe a bed..."

"We've got both." He grins, for a moment it is delightfully sharp, almost predatory, before it softens. "Cecil... you're okay, right? I know it's been a lot to take in, and I-- I didn't mean to make the world sound worse than it is. I just didn't want someone to say something to you that you weren't prepared for. And when I thought about how strictly controlled the flow of media into Night Vale was, I thought... maybe you really didn't know. But I don't want you to think everyone is like that. And... I want you to know, the people I introduce you to tomorrow night won't be like that. I want you to meet a couple of friends of mine who are here for the conference, some people who know that I date men and who don't care, and who want to meet this guy I've been excited about."

"You've been 'excited' about me?" 

"A little. I thought it would be nice if I could introduce you to people... instead of just keeping you hidden away in my hotel room for three days."

"Well." I make myself comfortable in his arms, my smile with a life of its own. "Not that I mind being kept in your hotel room, Carlos... not that I mind that at all, but... I would like to meet your friends."

"Good. We'll all have a drink together, and you'll charm everybody, and then you and I will have dinner together just the two of us. How's that sound?"

"Heavenly." I sigh. "That sounds just heavenly."


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (just a short one so I can sleep tonight... the night will be split off into its own chapter this time)

CONFERENCE- DAY 2

I should not be this worried about an adult man left to his own devices in a hotel room. It's not like leaving a new puppy home alone for the first time, Cecil is intelligent. And perfectly capable of independence! Just because he's clingy and sweet when we're together doesn't mean he doesn't know how to be on his own, and it is very silly of me to worry.

He said he would be interested to try watching HBO without having to be sent to the mines, he's got a book and a half left to read at least-- and permission to look through mine if he wants-- and if the room gets stifling, he can always go down to the swimming pool. I told him to order room service if he wants, but he can also go down to the little cafe, and if he doesn't feel like spending hotel money for food, I packed his foods and he knows where they are.

The bag by the mini fridge has a couple of microwavable cups of soup, a box of cereal bars, some crackers, individual cups of applesauce and a box of plastic spoons. The mini fridge has bottled waters and juices and a little carton of half-and-half. There's a coffeemaker that doesn't demand sacrifices before performing its duties! Cecil is going to be just fine. 

He has his slippers and bathrobe, he has that ridiculous teddy bear I got him when I left town without him to go after grant money that still smells like my cologne a month later... I don't even know how, or why I thought of it, but I'm not even that far away, and if there was an emergency, well, I'll check my phone between panels and presentations. 

And I'll stop worrying so much about an adult who can look after himself for a few hours in a hotel in what to him must be a very strange city...

\---/-/---

There is something very decadent about returning to bed after breakfast, wrapped in a very comfortable bathrobe, and with a television channel you do not pay for at home. Something that says 'Cecil, you are on vacation! Live it up a little! Be lazy!'

Well, that's what it says to me, at any rate, and who am I to say no to a little late-morning action movie and a second cup of coffee. And, admittedly, a cuddle from Doctor Bear. Not really necessary when Carlos is just down in the convention hall and I am just up in the room we're sharing, but... 

Well, I mean, gosh, it was just sweet of him to want me to have something to hold that smells a little like him, and it's a teddy bear in a lab coat! And, well, I am a cuddler. 

Carlos' room-- our room!-- has two beds, which he'd been quick to assure me was purely a mix-up that he wasn't interested enough in correcting, and not an indication that we would need a second bed. Although it's kind of useful, since there's only one suitcase rack, so Carlos' suitcase is sort of spread across it, but it means extra pillows, which is kind of nice when I'm the only one in this bed. Just cozy. 

The guide provided by the hotel reveals some foreign programming-- to me, I mean, not... not foreign-foreign. Well, I suppose at least some of the telenovelas and the BBC America are both technically foreign...

Non-approved programming, that's all I really mean. Shows that are not broadcast in Night Vale. I'm a little curious, but I stick to HBO, which is not forbidden so much as it is expensive. I'm just not that curious... 

And it is weird, watching TV without knowing the Sheriff's Secret Police is listening to you watching TV. I mean, what do people even do? Who do they make little jokes to? Do you just... know you're alone? I guess it would make masturbating easier, you wouldn't have to ask anyone to politely give you a few minutes, but... I just don't know if it's worth it. I mean, I don't even really feel like masturbating, so it's just like having no one around for nothing.

This is a really nice hotel room, though. The appliances are so well-mannered-- I guess the staff must take care of all their needs before guests can check in, and that's really thoughtful. Makes having a cup of coffee really easy. Not to mention the mini fridge keeping everything cold without taking anything for itself, and the microwave! 

After lunch-- crackers dropped into tomato soup the microwave obligingly heats for me-- and a little more television, I slide my bathing suit on up under my bathrobe, slide my keycard into said robe's pocket, and wrap a little waterproof sport tape over the tattoo that hates the sunlight, and once some sunscreen is in place for the rest of me and a towel is grabbed, I head down to the hotel pool. 

Time to myself is all well and good, everyone needs a little alone time, but no solitary mood lasts forever. It's very nice to see people, lying out in the sun or under the shade of big umbrellas, splashing around... just happy-looking vacationers. 

It strikes me there's not a non-standard limb array or second head among the bunch, and I can't be certain, but I think that's... right? Normal, here? I mean, I don't even see extra eyes on anybody, and that's a little weird to me. I've never been to a public pool and not seen, you know, a third eyeball blinking out of someone's shoulder, squeezed shut against the chlorine and the impossibility of a goggle... 

It's different, but it's not bad. I feel a little less self-conscious about, well... about being so physically average. After a little while of people-watching from the shade, I feel perfectly happy slipping out of my bathrobe, leaving it and my folded glasses on one of the lounge chairs, and diving in. I'm sure where it really counts, people are alike all over... but it's really very nice to know that, among strangers, I won't be stared at for my lack of flippers and superfluous sensory organs.


	3. Night Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! The second half of the previous chapter.

DAY TWO- NIGHT- 

I prepped everyone as best I could for meeting Cecil, over the phone for those I wasn't sure I'd be able to catch in person. Over the phone for everyone, but in person to the best of my ability. 

'Cecil is in radio' and 'Cecil's very eccentric, he's got a weird sense of humor' were the two phrases I made sure to get across. 

I am very glad that Cecil let me help him pack. In fact, I did most of the packing, and none of the clothes in his suitcase are anything that will cause a major... distraction.

I mean, I like the tunics, and even the furry pants have a... charm, if you know Cecil and you know Night Vale. But I just don't want to take him out and have somebody say something, and have him being hurt. 

When I got back to the room, Cecil was in the bathroom, taking a quick shower. He shouted through the half-open door to me about the afternoon he spent swimming, wanting to rinse the chlorine out of his hair, how nice it had been. Okay, I admit it-- at least, here in my own notes, and I'd admit it to Cecil anyway, he'd be glad to hear-- I peeked. He'd left the door open, right? And he's so cute with his hair wet, when he just is, without any thought towards being self-conscious. He's a little pink, but I assume he's flushed from the water. He's lived in the desert his whole life, he knows how to avoid getting sunburned. 

His trunks are hanging over the curtain rod, the most violently tropical print, just bright aqua and green and little bits of... magenta and purple it looks like. He holds his face under the spray from the showerhead a long moment, eyes screwed up tight, lips pressed closed, breath held until he lets it out and the water flies away from the exhalation as he shuts the tap off, and then he runs his hands over his hair to try and guide as much water out of it as he can.

I watch him towel off through the half-open door, seeing flashes of skin and flashes of towel and flashes of Cecil's smile.

\---/-/---

"Writing about me again?" I tease, very slowly drying off a leg, posed where he can catch a good glimpse of me. 

"Well, you are wet and naked." Carlos laughs. "My friends are really looking forward to meeting you tonight... I'm a little nervous, it's been a long time since I've introduced a boyfriend to anyone."

"Oh, gosh, you're nervous! I'm meeting new people for the first time and hoping they approve of me, but you're nervous!"

"Come here." He holds out a hand. 

I drop my towel completely-- and really, I am as dry as it's going to get me-- and move to his side, to his hand resting on my waist. 

"They'll love you." Carlos promises. "I'm just being ridiculous. Look-- I don't know how much to... What I should say, to prepare you... You'll meet Sam and Paul. Sam's a mechanical engineer and Paul's not actually a scientist, but he is in maths, he does accounting for a research facility, so... Anyway, they're... sort of a couple. It's complicated, or it's very uncomplicated, but they're the only two who get it. And Paige is a radiologic technician-- Paige runs big machines in hospitals. And she's dating someone, but they can't come, so it will just be her. And Lina..."

Carlos takes a deep breath and much more of a pause. 

"Lina is going to flirt with at least one of us. Possibly everyone. She and Paige represented the 'medical' contingency in our little group. Lina's very friendly, but it's harmless, so don't, you know, it's not weird if she flirts with me, okay? She's just like that. And she's a woman."

"Carlos, I'm not worried about you being flirted with by women." I laugh. "Now you need to let me get dressed."

"I mean-- Yeah. Well, that's true. And that's who can make it, but they'll probably talk about Doug, Brian, and Jessica. Brian's a chemist, Doug and Jess both program computers to be intelligent. And Kate-- Kate's a marine biologist. We were all in this little club together. Sort of a combination of STEM and the campus GSA, we called it SQUIDS. Which was Kate's idea. But it stood for Science Queers United In Doing Stuff. She... couldn't come up with a better way to make it say 'squids'. We had tee shirts."

"It sounds like a fun group." I smile, cupping his cheek a moment before removing his hand from my waist and stepping away to get my clothes. "How should I be dressed for this, anyway?"

"Pretty casual. Well, semi-casual. Paige won't dress up, Lina always dresses up... but it's the hotel bar so I think they're used to whatever people are wearing."

Carlos sits back to watch, which is... nice, if potentially distracting, the weight of his eyes on me as I slip into a pair of briefs, tug on a pair of rather slim jeans-- cuffed just so, really nice with the button down shirt and the narrow tie and the impossibly lightweight purple sweater... At least, it's a look I like, and Carlos radiates approval, smiling at me from the bed where he's leaning back on his elbows. 

"You like?" I ask, slipping into my sandals, giving my hair one last finger-combing into place in the mirror, hoping it will just dry nicely and that I won't discover midway through the evening that I should have used some product or other to ensure the integrity of my part.

"Oh, I like." Carlos nods. "I'm going to look like a schlub next to you."

"You're not a schlub." I ruffle his hair. It falls into a very attractive arrangement. "You're a highly important scientist. Take me out?"

I offer him my hand, we heft him upright, and he offers me his arm. 

Down at the hotel bar, there's a small group gathered, and they wave to Carlos immediately, and then to me. 

"Sam, Paul, this is Cecil." He presents me to the first two of his friends to reach us, his hand at the small of my back. "Cecil, Sam, Paul."

Sam is a large man with a ponytail, and a blazer over a shirt with what I am sure is a joke about engineering, and Paul is much shorter, almost cherubic but with a certain wryness, and we all say our hellos and shake hands before Carlos can bring me over to the ladies. 

"This must be Lina-- Carlos said you were the fashionable one of the group!" I take her hand immediately as we reach her. She is a striking woman, really-- she could almost be Carlos' sister, with the same delicate, dark skin, with silky black hair and a similar strong jawline. I have never been the type to be attracted to women, but I can certainly tell when a woman is attractive. And I do appreciate a free fashion sense, the sort that allows for a riot of color and a little sparkle. "That blouse is so-- wow, just... fun!"

"Oh, Carlos, your boyfriend is such a sweetheart!" She gushes, taking my arm. "I wanted to meet the lucky guy! Boy, you know you are lucky, that Carlos. I should have brought pictures from university, honey, he was so cute I wanted to take him home! And I don't say that about just any man."

Paige-- I assume Paige, by process of elimination and her hanging out so close to the group-- laughs at that. 

"Okay, I say that about a lot of men." Lina shrugs, reaching over to pinch the other woman's cheek. "And sometimes a cute lady. I almost asked this one's ladyfriend out once, we're in some of the same social groups. But then I wasn't going to take my sister's girl once they started dating, you know? We were roommates so long, me and her... if she goes after someone, hunting season's off for me."

"Lina, Cecil, Cecil, Lina." Carlos sighs. "And 'hunting season' is off on your other friends' dates as well, I hope. And Paige, this is Cecil-- well, I guess you've heard that about three times already-- Cecil, Paige."

Paige is delightful. Her hair is green, and she giggles wildly when I ask her if it is natural, and her jeans have stars printed all over them that her earrings match. 

"Carlos was remiss in not telling me that you were also fashionable." I shake her hand. 

"Yeah, yeah, Carlos told us you were funny." She rolls her eyes, but there is a little pleased smile. 

Mostly I listen, while Carlos catches up with his old friends-- I am a bit out of my depth when it comes to most of their areas of study, but I interject a little something where I can. Polite interest, at the very least, and drinks with the SQUIDS are very fun, even if I don't understand half of the jokes. 

"Somebody needs to tell me where I can find a cute little latin boy to keep me warm at night." Lina bemoans, when Carlos drapes his arm around me. 

"You need to hook up with that phlebotomist." Paige shakes her head. 

"There's a phlebotomist?" I lean in, giving her a conspiratorial grin.

"He's a nice guy. And it's not like he doesn't know, right? And he's not easy to gross out, so you can talk about work stuff to him because he deals with people's blood. Just ask him out, the worst that's going to happen is he'll say no, but he's pretty cool. He did Babs' last blood draw and she says he's a great guy..."

"Is that code for something, 'did her last blood draw'?" Lina laughs nervously. "I don't know. Dating is a lot harder than it was back at school."

"Well, if you want my opinion, he'd be silly to turn down a date. I mean, if it doesn't work out, then it doesn't work out, but why pass up the chance? Glamorous women with advanced degrees in medicine don't just fall out of the sky-- Well, only on very rare occasions. And never with your effervescent personality." I say.

"Carlos, your boyfriend is such a sweetheart!" She gestured dramatically, waving a hand at me and then in front of her face. "Oh, gosh, honey, I'm going to get all teared up, glamorous and effervescent!"

"Cecil... appreciates effervescence." Carlos shrugs. 

I excuse myself to the bathroom, having hit my limit on black cats-- and who knew, right? Cherry brandy and cranberry juice, okay, but with cola? And yet it works, it really, really works-- and to let my absence give Carlos the chance to bid goodnight to the old gang a while longer. There's a queue, of course, but... well, more time for Carlos to have.

\---/-/---

Drinks a relief. Everyone very positive on subject of Cecil. Anything weird taken as a joke, no laughing hard enough to let Cecil know they thought he was joking. 

He'd said goodbye before heading to the men's room, 'just in case', and I cleared everyone out with hugs and promises to keep in touch, and they all said he's a keeper. 

Which means a lot. They're the only family I can introduce Cecil to like this. My parents don't want to meet any boyfriends. Most extended family doesn't know I have boyfriends. 

Lina loves him. I'm sure Paige and her friend Babs' seals of approval carries more weight than Cecil's, since they have actually met the phlebotomist and can vet him as friendly and a good guy, but she was pretty charmed by Cecil just the same. I shouldn't have worried, really. Of course they would approve, because Cecil is charming, and sweet, and he makes me happy. And of course he'd be... well, Cecil, and of course he'd get along with them, and of course he would only say flattering things. 

\---/-/---

When I finally catch up to Carlos at the hotel bar, the others have gone, and he's slipping his little tiny notebook and pen into his lab coat pockets. 

"Sorry, there was a line."

"That's fine. You want to get seated?" He asks, placing a hand on my arm. 

Here, no one seems to notice so much. Not like being glared at in the diner, the lighting is dim and Carlos leads me after the hostess to a table in an even darker corner. 

He orders an appetizer to split, and I stick to drinking water, having consumed quite enough brandy and vodka for one evening. And with no one around to see, Carlos and I hold hands over the table, just as openly as I wouldn't even hesitate to back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested, these are Cecil's swim trunks:  
> http://www.undergear.com/Tactics%C2%AE-Fantasy-Trunk/MA407,default,pd.html?dwvar_MA407_color=BLUE%20PRINT&start=34&cgid=swimwear-trunks
> 
> Though... this is not at all how he looks in them.


	4. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos presents to his peers. This is only the beginning of his real problems. (another half-chapter)

CONFERENCE TRIP- DAY THREE: 

Last night went very smoothly. Drinks went great, everyone loved Cecil-- they think he's eccentric and 'funny', sure, but they love him, and they love that I apparently am much happier and healthier looking. Surprised to look healthier considering radiation levels in Night Vale, but then, they don't seem to actually cause the kind of sickness that I should be seeing all over town. Dinner was wonderful, ordered for us both, traded bites, got to be practically invisible in the dark back booth. (feel weird that I now classify statements so that anyone finding these journals won't think I was literally invisible. Feel really weird about how not weird that's felt the past couple months). 

This morning also... as smooth as possible. Cecil helpful. I practiced presenting to him while he ate breakfast in bed. Floated the idea of sneaking him in as my 'assistant'. He said it would be fun to see me 'in action', and if I'm honest, I'll feel better having him there. He has a way of instilling confidence in me. I'd say he looks at me like I hung the moon, if Cecil believed the moon existed. 

He might, it's hard to know what Cecil really thinks and what he 'thinks' because of Station Management/City Council. And honestly, I'm glad when he does display some sense of self-preservation, as much as I love his honesty. Sometimes in Night Vale maybe it's not worth it. 

.

Cecil helped me carry my things down to the conference room I'll be presenting in. They have an AV guy to help me get my laptop hooked up for the powerpoint, and to check out the microphone, except Cecil got to the mic first and set about checking it for me. I told him not to be jealous of the AV guy. Pretty sure the AV guy thinks I'm engaging in some highly unethical behaviour with an underling, but I didn't want to come out and say I was sneaking my boyfriend into the conference by calling him my assistant, either... 

\---/-/---

Carlos is so smart. And so handsome! And his voice is just... beautiful. And he's just a really brilliant scientist! So I'm not sure why he's worried about this presentation. I mean, he held a press conference in front of the whole town on his first day in Night Vale, right? But, the citizens of Night Vale are not all certified scientists, and perhaps his esteemed colleagues are more difficult to impress. Still, I think his presentation is really good. And, after all, Night Vale is so... interesting, scientifically, as he often says.

I have a seat up in the front-- not right next to Carlos, which he said would not be 'appropriate', which I took to mean he might not be able to keep his hands off me. Or I mine from him. Still, I'm on his side of the divide between presenter and audience, at the opposite side from the podium. 

The room fills up slowly, and then Carlos begins, and I am so happy to let myself be captivated by him. His passion and his energy are just... invigorating. I feel so alive being even this close, as he displays seismographic evidence and graphs on radiation, and photographs of some of Night Vale's more 'scientifically important' citizens. Not me, of course. That would be a 'conflict of interests' and would lead to 'bias' on Carlos' part. 

The murmuring is a little distracting, and I'm not the only one to think so. I watch Carlos falter, see the flare of embarrassment across his features when there are loud coughs from his audience. 

He soldiers on, of course, because he is a scientist, and that's one of the things that scientists do, but then a hoary old gentleman, white-whiskered and bow-tied, gets to his feet and shouts that he doesn't believe there even is such a town as Night Vale. 

Several others agree that they have never heard of it, and, well, that is just too much to bear. 

"Of course there's a Night Vale." I snap, rising to my feet. I can feel my own face turning red. My eyes feel hot. Bad enough that the existence of my home and all that I hold dear there is being questioned, but interrupting Carlos in the middle of his data sharing? That's just not okay! "I should know! I live there!"

Another murmur runs through the crowd. Someone in the back says if this is so, then my inclusion smacks of an old fashioned freak show more than a scientific presentation. Someone else asks where my second head is, insinuates that in real life, such things cannot be digitally added. 

I do not slap the nearest dissenting scientist. I know that much. I know I want to, and I can feel Carlos reaching for me across the front of the room, across the wide screen that still projects collected data on the Whispering Forest, and when I turn, his graphs flicker across his dark face and his bright white coat, and I never meant for him to look so worried, so upset, my hand fluttering uselessly near my own face, arrested before the chance for assault. 

"It's all real!" I protest. "Why shouldn't it be?"

"What would I have to gain, if I made up something this-- this implausible?" Carlos demands, of one of the more bullish of his colleagues, and he slides me a guilty look. "I know how it looks, but that's why you have to believe I would never fabricate this kind of thing! I have my reputation to lose! I have data, if you'll just look--"

There is a rapid argument that rattles around the room, too many terms I do not understand as Carlos grows more agitated, but I am not there for the end of it. Security removes me from the hall, and tries to remove me from the hotel until I can show them my room key. 

There is something humiliating about that. It's nothing compared to what I feel for Carlos, as I drag myself back to the bed where only last night we'd made love after everything had gone so well. He was enjoying the conference so much! He was nervous, but he'd felt like the facts would at least act as a safety net. That someone would see that the fantastic things he spoke about were all properly documented. But no one was even looking!

I am sure that history will vindicate Carlos and his reputation within the wider scientific community. And in Night Vale, of course, he will be a very important member of society, with all the insight he can offer us on our little town. But here and now, to have been accused of something so abhorrent to his very soul as falsified data?! 

It feels like I have been lying on the bed by myself so long when Carlos comes in. Visibly drooping. 

"Cecil... thank you, for trying." He collapses beside me, his legs hanging off the side of the bed, and I open my arms to him without hesitation. "But I don't think there was any salvaging that."

"Wh-what will this mean for your work now?"

"I'll find a way to deal with the fallout."

"How can you think about Radon Canyon at a time like this?"

He blinks, then laughs. "For my career. The fallout for my career. I'll deal with it. I'll have someone respected come into Night Vale, I'll send physical samples to research labs around the country to have my results duplicated. It's going to be okay. I'm not going to lose my funding-- at least, not right this minute. And if that happens... well, we'll deal with that, too."

With a groan, he rolls back onto his back. "Later. I'll do all that later. Right now I... Fuck, I'm so tired, Cecil..."

I sit, and slide off the bed to kneel beside it. I remove his shoes and socks, then I get a warm, wet washcloth and a soft towel, and the little bottle of free lotion that smells like coconut. 

It's something I can do, anyway, washing his feet and, after patting them dry with the towel, massaging away all the soreness I can. I kiss the top of one inner arch, up near the ankle, skin soft and coconut-scented. 

"Thanks." He sighs, his hand reaching blindly in my direction. He can't quite reach, but I am happy to move over to where he can. "I love you, baby, you know that."

I feel a little guilty-- I'd meant to take care of him, after how the presentation went, but he only calls me 'baby' when he can tell I need it. I didn't want to fall apart when he needed me to be the strong one... stupid, stupid...

"Cecil. You know that, right?"

"I know."

"That's good. Cielito... come up here."

He pats the bed and I rejoin him, the both of us scooting up to the center. He wraps his arms around me. I like 'cielito'... in that it does not sound entirely unlike my name in terms of sounds used, and that it is comfortingly diminutive-- and that is a good indicator of just how much you deserve a pet name, isn't it? How small and cute it makes you sound?-- and in that it means I am his little piece of heaven. 

"Thank you for doing that for me." He kisses my forehead. "I needed... something. You're good at that."

"At something?" I brave a smile.

"At a lot of somethings. Making me feel better. And... hell, you-- you look at me like you trust me with your whole world, and I figure... if a smart, with-it guy like you thinks so, then I must be able to handle things. I must be able to take care of us both, because if I couldn't, you wouldn't look at me like that. I need that feeling right now, Cecil. I need to know I can handle this. If you believe in me, I can. If you need me, I've got to."

"I do." I nod. "All of it."

He smiles and cups my cheek, and our foreheads rest together a long moment.

"I know you do, baby. How about I start by making it up to you? That was a real mess and you deserve better on your vacation. Nap with me for a little while, then we'll go out someplace really fun. Get away from the hotel. I can't show my face around the conference until I can get some reliable backing for my findings-- next time, right? Next time I'll be back with proof they can't ignore. But today, we're going to go out-- after a little rest. We can go to an art museum, or I can show you my alma mater, it's in the same city. Or we can go look at some local architecture. Or-- Cecil, would you like to see a library that isn't dangerous? Where the librarians won't attack you, they'll just answer helpful questions about books?"

"I don't know how I feel about that."

He laughs. "Well... do you miss the desert?"

"I'll be home soon enough." I promise. I don't want him to cut the trip short on my account, even if the conference is a bust.

"The Huntington Desert Garden is... it's this thing, I, uh... I could show you the largest yucca filifera in the world." He offers, stroking through my hair. "Or... Well, or anything. The world outside Night Vale is at your fingertips, and you'll have a willing guide. Think about it. If there's a thing you want to see, I'll do my best to find it."

"I'll think about it, then." I yawn, snuggling into him. He tugs me back just long enough to slide my glasses off and move them to safety, and then his arms are around me again, and things are... things are a little bit righter.


	5. Day 3- Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil gets the chance to explore what life outside Night Vale has to offer.

VACATION- DAY 3/1

Well, day three of Cecil's vacation, day one of mine, now that the conference is a bust. 

Cecil did NOT want to look in the Huntington Library. Another time, I think it would be good to make him... show him a normal library somewhere, if not this one. But we had a rough morning, and just walking past it seemed to set him on edge. I don't know if it's his innate fear of librarians, or the knowledge that the ones he knows wouldn't even be there. A sorely mistaken case of better the devil you know.

The desert garden, though... that perked him right up. He breathes easier with familiar scenery, and we walked around a while, holding hands whenever we were alone. It's cooler than it would have been back home.

Wow. I just wrote 'back home' about Night Vale. I'm in the city where I grew up. I want to go home to Night Vale. 

I blame Cecil. He is really cute. Sweet. I got to actually witness one of his spells-- he told me about what he saw, but it was nothing concrete, and I didn't have any equipment... as a scientific curiosity, nothing came of it, but I still felt... privileged, to be there. To get to know all about him, and his quirks. Even if one of those quirks is that sometimes his consciousness is miles away and he can only stand still and stare into the distance and talk about what he sees until it's over. This time it was shorter and more inconsequential than usual, but he reached over to take my hand when it was over, just for a squeeze. 

Cecil had a good time with the desert garden, and we got a burger after. It was late for lunch, early for dinner. He enjoyed it, and I tried really hard to keep my mouth closed while chewing and things seemed at least a little improved by the time we did head back to the hotel. To slink in, with my tail between my legs, but hey.

\---/-/---

"Carlos..." I purr. The little desk in our hotel room is situated in such a way that I cannot crawl under it and up into his lap, but I can drape myself across his shoulders. "Haven't you been taking enough notes?"

"A scientist never has enough notes." He teases, reaching back to tap my nose. "In fact... I need to take some more. Some very scientific notes, about my favorite subject."

"Carlos, if you packed those glowing rocks--"

"My favorite subject." He repeats, voice a little lower, and I can't even help myself, I'm sure I giggle. 

"Oh. You mean me."

"Take off your shirt for me?"

Carlos asks, like it's a question, but it isn't, not really. It's never a question, not with that tone of voice and clothing removal... I take off my shirt.

"Trousers." Carlos says, with this perfect calm, like his boyfriend is not disrobing for him. 

And then he takes notes, while I stand there in my underwear, and it should not be sexy. I mean, he doesn't even touch me and he looks up at me between more scribbled note-taking-- and I know the pen is perfectly legal here, but still... 

"Turn." He says, at last. "To your left."

I do. And I hold still. And I listen to the scratch of pen on paper. As if what we're doing is not intensely sexual, is not sexual in any way.

"Another quarter turn to the left, please." Carlos says. His tone is that of a scientist speaking to a test subject, sure, but I hear the little catch in his breath when I obey. 

I feel like he keeps me longer than he did for that first quarter turn left. I hope my ass looks nice in these briefs. He didn't ask me to take them off, I didn't presume. 

"And again, quarter turn to your left." Carlos, dispassionate, the sound of scribbling. And then it stops short a moment only to resume, faster, Carlos slightly breathless. 

The notebook is still in his hands when he rises. He walks around behind me, still taking notes, circling me with a gaze that feels... much less scientific. I don't move, not my head, not even the direction of my eyes, not even when he looks into them, from the side and from the front-and-slightly-below. 

"Thank you, Mr. Baldwin, that will be all." He finally murmurs. "You may put your clothes back on."

Oh, dirty pool, Carlos. I whimper. 

"In fact..." His voice is definitely less 'professional scientist'. "How about you dress up nice for me? I want to take you out. Someplace special. Something I've never seen in Night Vale, that I think you'll like. Does that sound good, baby?"

Oh yes. Definitely not 'professional scientist'. Getting the rest of the way naked and jumping in bed sounds good right now, but Carlos sounds even better. If he has plans, plans that involve his voice getting all hoarse and sexy and requests to dress up for a night on the town, well... I am sure those plans will still end in bed. 

\---/-/---

VACATION- DAY 3/1: EVENING

Cecil is so, so quick to respond it's... It's amazing. I've never really been put in the position Cecil puts me in before, but, well, we've adapted. And after this morning, I should have known he'd need some orders. 

And I just guess that with the way our relationship's progressed, I really like the way he trusts me. This is Cecil at his most vulnerable, standing there in his underwear. All his soft parts showing, the little bits of flab I sometimes catch him poking at frownily while dressing. The tattoo he always keeps hidden away. All the things he could ever be self-conscious about, and never is in front of me. 

And he's so obedient. 

And he just wanted attention, really. Just needed to know I was looking at him and paying attention to him. Sometimes that's all it takes for Cecil to feel a lot better, to know he has my attention. 

Well, he certainly has it now. I like him, I like all his soft bits, the ones he pokes at and frowns at like middle age crept up on him and him alone and it's not just part of the human condition to get softer around the middle. I like how cuddly he is with those soft bits to squeeze. I like

I like his ass. A lot. 

Cecil has never been to a gay bar. There aren't any in Night Vale-- the social attitudes would make it an ideal place, except for lack of steady clientele. Cecil may not be the only gay man in town, but it's still a small pool. 

So. Cecil should get to go to a gay bar. 

Closer inspection. Cecil's respiration up. Flush on cheeks, throat, chest. Pupils dilating. Not their widest, but definitely dilating. 

Blood flow to corpora cavernosa and corpus spongiosum noticeable. Not painfully so, but noticeable. Overall effect: Intoxicating. 

I hate to stop the show, but I need to take Cecil out. It'll be nice, he can see that despite my dire warnings at the beginning of the trip, the SQUIDs and I still have our places to congregate and relax and not get judged.


	6. Night Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos takes Cecil out. Things go about as well as could reasonably be expected. Citizens of Night Vale are difficult to intimidate.

VACATION- DAY 3/1: NIGHT

Waiting on Cecil to dress to impress. Our wardrobe options are kind of limited, but that's fine. I wouldn't exactly be comfortable in one of those places with really hot young guys and 'house' music and lasers and bubbles and grinding. The Boulevard, though... It's nice and comfortable and very casual, and Cecil can have a good time. I fully intend to play designated driver-- he's asked if the place I have in mind knows how to make the drink he had down in the hotel bar the other night, and I don't know about that because I've never heard of a 'black cat' before, but they certainly put him in a good mood, so I guess we'll ask.

\---/-/---

"I haven't been here in a long time..." Carlos opens my car door for me. "This is where we went the last time everyone was in town and free to get together, though-- the, uh, the SQUIDS gang."

We walk, side by side, around to a little place, more a dive bar than anything from the looks of it outside, but inside...

Inside, Carlos slips his arm around me to walk me to the bar, and there's the sound of pool being played somewhere, and a fairly mixed crowd, and men dancing with men and talking in lowered voices with their heads together over beers and cocktails. 

"Cecil, welcome to your first gay bar." He smiles, leaning up to nuzzle at my ear. "What do you think?"

"I thought-- Oh, that's nice-- Oh, hi!" I let the bartender interrupt us. It's something to take in, really-- the very idea that all the people here could be gay. I mean... I don't think you could fill any of the establishments back home in Night Vale with an entirely queer clientele-- sexually queer, I mean. There are, of course, many citizens who would proudly term themselves 'queer' in the non-sexual sense. And even if there were a couple people in the bar who weren't, that the place is run specifically catering to those who are, that's incredible.

Carlos orders a coke for himself and something called a 'between the sheets' for me.

"Do they all have risque names?" I peer over his shoulder at the drinks list.

"Not all of them." He tugs me around to stand next to him again, within the circle of his arms, the both of us leaning against the bar and smiling at each other, and it is a wonderful, light moment. "But I thought you'd like it. I didn't see the one you had at the hotel on the menu."

"That's fine. That's more than fine. This place is nice. I didn't know-- I didn't know you had a place. I mean... to stop worrying about..."

"There are places." He nods, tipping the bartender before returning his arms to my person. "A lot of cities have little places. They're not all this cozy... in fact, a lot of them are kind of... loud and kind of... too much party for me. And everyone's a kid who just turned twenty-one-- or a guy still trying to pass for twenty-one-- and is covered in glitter and I can't even deal with it. This is more my speed."

"This is nice." I agree.

My drink certainly is. It is a lot stronger than what I was drinking at the hotel. A lot stronger. Better nurse this one a little.

A nice gentleman in a suit and tie asks me to dance, and I hesitate. 

"I'm here with my boyfriend..."

"You can dance, Cecil." Carlos pulls my hand up to his lips for just a moment and gives me a little nudge towards the floor. "We're here so you can have a good time. If you want to dance with anyone who asks you, then you go right ahead, and if you don't, then you come on back to me. I'll watch your drink."

"Good plan. Unattended drinks tend to wander off. Or change into different kinds of drinks." I nod. "Thank you, Carlos. The next dance is yours!"

\---/-/---

DAY 3: NIGHT

Cecil having a good time, dancing and chatting-- his dance with a stranger turned into sort of a group dance with about four men, who all look fairly charmed, but he keeps waving and grinning back at me, and I'm pretty sure none of these guys have any illusions about trying to pick him up, they're just charmed by him because Cecil is charming. 

I might have to take over a pool table later, after he's done dancing, after he finishes his drink... whoever has the most experience playing pool can just teach the other, any excuse really. But playing pool sober is more fun than dancing sober, and a lot more fun than karaoke sober. 

Cecil will probably still talk me into dancing with him. And maybe I'll be forced to rethink my opinions on how fun dancing is. He looks like a lot of fun to dance with, a lot closer than his group of new acquaintances are dancing.

\---/-/---

"I'm his!" I point to Carlos, grinning. "The handsome one watching my drink. He's a scientist."

And the guy in the flannel shirt who I think called himself Jack but I don't remember, he nods and smiles. 

The nice gentleman in the suit-- before all these other people joined us-- told me he's traveling, and he's a salesman. I wasn't sure if he meant he was a traveling salesman, I asked him if he was a fly salesman and he laughed and said no. Anyway, he has a boyfriend back home, and I feel a little better knowing there aren't going to be any misunderstandings. He has a slight sibilant lisp, that he says really just comes out when he drinks, and the kind of complete lack of accent that comes with vocal training or maybe speech therapy, and he thinks I am funny. 

But that's fine, because everybody sort of thinks everybody is funny just now, I think-- at least, there's a lot of friendly laughing, and Jack talks about getting over an ex a little, and I can't tell if he means an ex girlfriend or an ex boyfriend, because he talks about both being attractive, and the nice gentleman who I don't remember giving a name urges him to find somebody and move on with things, and then the blond boy in the pink vee neck shirt, who's a little younger than Jack and a bit even-younger than me, he sort of turns so that he and Jack are dancing together a little more exclusively.

And that, coupled with a new song coming on, seems like a good sign to me that its time to return to Carlos, who I caught with his notebook out just for a little bit. 

He hands me my drink and as soon as I sit down, his hand is on my thigh, warm and comfortable. 

"Having fun?"

"I am." I nod. "Everyone here is very nice, and I think those young men might just leave together, and my new friend in the suit agrees that you are very handsome. He says his boyfriend also has perfect hair. I said yours is nicer. We agreed to disagree. Taking notes again?"

"Weighing the pros and cons of dancing while sober." He squeezes my leg and smiles. "The pros are winning."

"Mm, good." I take a long, slow sip. "I'm glad to hear it. Because I will feel my night woefully incomplete until I can dance with my boyfriend."

"I thought we might try getting one of the pool tables for a little while. And I could teach you to play. Unless you actually know how, and then you can teach me."

I laugh and slide off my stool to stand between his knees. "You're offering to teach me and you don't actually know how to play?"

"I know how. I'm not great. It would be an excuse to put my arms around you and bend you over something. Kind of a cliche, I know, but..."

"Well, the classics get to be that way for a reason." I arch an eyebrow and take another sip. 

Once we are both done with our respective drinks, his soft, mine quite hard, Carlos leads me to the dance floor, and it's Whitney Houston singing 'I Wanna Dance With Somebody' and I couldn't have timed it better, and Carlos' hips move, just so nicely... a sort of a roll forward and then back, with his hands on mine to guide me to follow, and it is so fun getting into the rhythm of it. So nice to be breathless and laughing and leaning against each other at the song's end. 

"Pool?" Carlos offers.

Well, of course, I acquiesce. 

The heat of Carlos' body along my back is comfortable, a little exciting but mostly just warm and familiar and... Right. It's right to have him draped over me, pressed just slightly against me, right to feel his arms guiding mine. We are both terrible at pool and it is the most fun anything's ever been. And when Carlos finally purrs in my ear to ask if I am ready to go back to the hotel, well... I definitely am.

It's out of the shadow of the bar itself and on the walk back to the car when it happens, and at first I'm not exactly sure what 'it' is, just that a bottle has broken somewhere very close to us. Carlos holds onto my arm a little tighter and propels us a little faster towards where we parked, and by then I can kind of hear the heavy footfall trying to catch up with us and the jeering, and this is what Carlos was trying to warn me about in the diner, isn't it, this is...

I stop short, and Carlos pulls on my arm and says my name sharply. There are three men, and I hear my blood pounding in my ears more than I hear anything they're saying, and I don't feel the shove to my own shoulder, but I see Carlos' arms being grabbed and pinned. 

But I stopped next to the broken bottle for a reason. 

I am not a violent person. But I have completed all mandatory defense training courses in firearms and hand-to-hand combat with improvised weapons. It's just part of life. At least, at home it is, and at home no one would ever, ever pin Carlos' arms back or threaten to hurt us or try to punch me, and because of that, back home, no one would wind up with the jagged edges of a broken bottle in his face. 

It's very, very simple. 

I think some of the edges break a little. It sort of cuts in a broken line around his eye, like some strange kind of circular morse code, and when he stumbles away from me, I smack the side of what's left of the bottle across the nosebridge of the man who was about to hit Carlos, and Carlos steps back onto the foot of the man holding him, and I turn to shove the end of the bottle into that third man's midsection once Carlos is free. 

They spit curses-- and teeth, after a swift elbow to the jaw-- and I get the definite impression they thought we would be easier pickings.

"Should we wait here for the local Secret Police?" I ask Carlos.

"No." He takes my arm again. He is shaking, or I am. Both of us, maybe.

"You're right, of course. If they need us, they'll be able to find us." I nod. 

\---/-/---

NIGHT 3 FURTHER NOTES:

I don't know what happened. I've never seen Cecil like that. I mean, I'm glad he was, but it wasn't very Cecil. He kept calm until we were in the hotel room and then he just sort of crumpled. Of course he didn't enjoy drawing blood, but... 

If I didn't know Cecil as well as I do, I'd have been scared too. It doesn't surprise me that the guys who jumped us ran. Even if he hadn't been swinging a broken bottle around at them, Cecil was... Cecil was terrifying. 

In Night Vale, you grow up learning how to kill, because you grow up with the absolute knowledge that someday, something bigger than you is going to attack. This was something I understood as a vague concept. I even knew Cecil knew a lot about guns and how to safely operate them-- safety first, even if the local chapter of the NRA suggests we can't be killed by guns. 

It kind of never struck me that he would be this capable without them, or that he could turn into someone that fierce. I mean, his face changed. I saw things in his expression I never thought I'd see. Things that made Cecil's hate for Steve Carlsberg seem downright friendly. 

Cecil does not like being that person, and I don't blame him. The necessity for ferocity that he grew up with served him well, but it's not Cecil. 

I drew him a hot bath and made him drink some water. He'll need to rehydrate after the drinking and the dancing. It wasn't a lot, but Cecil's not exactly a heavyweight drinker anyway, and I'm not taking him back to the desert under-hydrated. 

\---/-/---

"Carlooos..."

"Coming, baby." 

I hand him the empty water bottle when he comes in to sit on the edge of the tub. 

"Feeling better?"

"Are you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Want to join me?"

"In a minute." He leans in and kisses my forehead. Sweetly... always sweetly, my Carlos. He disappears again, only to come back in wearing just his boxer shorts and carrying a granola bar. 

He feeds me bites, before tossing the wrapper, ditching the shorts, and sliding into the tub with me. It's a tight fit, but I'd rather have him with me than not. Cozy... And I could almost fall asleep, except after a while, I need the toilet. 

Carlos towels me off carefully before leaving me to it, and I join him in bed after. 

Under the covers, our hands travel over each other, an end to itself rather than any foreplay. It isn't the sexy evening I'd been looking forward to, but it's what I need right now, to just be stroked gently up my side and down my back, and to feel Carlos' breath on my cheek, and to feel Carlos' skin and muscle beneath my hands... So, so sweet, my Carlos. So what I need... 

"Thank you." He whispers, ruffling my hair and holding my hand in the little space between us. "You're my hero, you know that?"

I blush, a little. "Oh, Carlos... am I?"

"Mm. Fighting off hordes of..."

"Ruffians." I supply.

"Fighting off hordes of ruffians to keep me safe."

"Did I do a good job?" I cuddle up to him, and feel his lips descend upon my cheek and temple, and his arm wrap around me tight to hold me to his chest. The hairs silky under my cheek and the warmth of him and the thud of his heart all perfect... 

"You did such a good job, baby... I... I was scared, a little. You got us out of it, though... and tomorrow we'll go home, and we won't have to worry about that anymore. We'll go home and everyone will be happy to see us... just the way we are."

That sounds lovely, and I let the promise of home and the reality of Carlos lull me to sleep.


	7. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home again, home again... 
> 
> Otherwise known as shameless fluff for an epilogue.

HOME

(work notes in desk at lab these are personal notes)

Ah, the post-conference decompression. Worse than most conferences. Next time will be better. 

Cecil is still expecting an official commendation for successful vigilantism, and it would be easier to contact the Sheriff's Secret Police and ask them to give him one than to explain that there are no Sheriff's Secret Police in Pasadena and that even if there were, they probably wouldn't be rewarding him for sending three guys to the hospital, and might not even take our side and that if they press assault charges after assaulting us, three straight white guys are going to win that one.

Okay, maybe I'm really happy to call Night Vale home.

Tomorrow will work on gathering credence/support. Tonight, Cecil is wearing a really ridiculous apron, patterned with purple swirls and stars, and... ruffly. The ruffle is the really ridiculous part, I guess, and the fact that it isn't even a bib-style apron so there's nothing protecting his shirt and tie, and I'm not actually sure what he put it on for aside from just liking it. Which is reason enough. Tonight, Cecil is wearing his silly apron and his velvet house slippers and dancing and humming to himself at the stove while he makes me dinner, so everything else can wait.

\---/-/---

"You deserve a night to be spoiled." I press, when Carlos offers to help. 

"If you say so." He smiles, and settles into his seat on the sofa. 

And he watches, which is... nice. I like being under the careful observation of my favorite scientist... The non-scientific observation of my favorite scientist. 

He takes very good care of me when we have the time off together, my Carlos. I know sometimes he has the tendency to get caught up with work, and that's just how scientists are, but he's gotten better about making regular 'us' nights and I've gotten better about accepting that sometimes his work really does need to come first, like for safety reasons. And I mean, I have my Council-Approved-Book Club, though... we've recently run out of Council-approved books... and I still haven't felt really good about going back to league nights, so we're still just doing book club things but... without books. The point is, I have social outlets, and Carlos has his trivia team for pub quiz night-- they're not very good at every category, but whenever there's a science question, they certainly make the argument that they know what they're talking about, and, well, if Carlos says it, then I believe him.

I said Carlos should put me on his trivia team if he wants to get what he calls 'Night Vale questions', but he thinks we both need to have some leisure time apart, so... I don't drop in to pub quiz nights very often. 

Anyway, my point is, when we're home, together, Carlos is very caring and responsible and he likes to make sure I'm happy. And of course I am. But it's a two way street, and I can't just let Carlos cater to me all of the time. As much as I like it. Well, I like this part, too. Even if making dinner is not my usual forte. Well, I know I can make chile relleno, so... as long as I'm not making it all the time, right? And it makes everything smell warm and homey in the kitchen... and the way the air itself changes when the scents from the oven filter out into the living room and Carlos kind of perks up...

"Is that dinner?"

"It just needs to set." I bring him a coke, settling onto a floor cushion next to the sofa. 

"Thank you, cielito." His hand drops down to wrap around the back of my neck in a warm, gentle squeeze. "... Comfy down there?"

"For now." I nod, leaning against his leg. He strokes through my hair, and over my forehead, and down my cheek... so much attention, so many little touches. I have between five and ten minutes to soak them all up before dinner, and an eternity wouldn't be enough... but for now a few minutes will do. 

I mean, we've got all the time in the world after dinner to keep on taking care of each other.


End file.
